


One More Night

by RobinWritesChirps



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinWritesChirps/pseuds/RobinWritesChirps
Summary: Supposing the plan of finding shelter at our good old kooky old biology professor was actually successful, Becky and Tom find a moment to talk and catch up.Not really fluffy cause BF is sad af y'all but definitely intimate.
Relationships: Becky Barnes/Tom Houston
Comments: 9
Kudos: 20





	One More Night

"What a fucking weirdo, right?"

Becky smiled, looking down at her hands on her lap.

"He's... something."

Tom sighed. Unbuttoning his shirt, he draped it onto the back of a chair. Stretched his arms up above his head. Two narrow twin beds, no windows, of course, underground fallout shelter. The covers looked clean. They also looked like they had been put there twenty years ago. How surprising that this Hidgens would not get many visitors. 

"I don't know if I like this guy," he said. "Probably wouldn't be here if we had any options..."

He dropped heavily next to her on the bed, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling, hoping for more answers than crumbly plaster was willing to give back. Her hand gently sliding on his lap brought his attention to her again. He gave her a tentative smile, caught himself staring at her lips and looked away again. 

"We don't," she said simply. 

Her head nestled into his shoulder so naturally it felt like just yesterday they were there at the Cineplex back when the tickets were five bucks each, when they were the hot popular kids everyone liked and envied and they had nothing to care in the world but not getting caught by the theater ushers for all they dared to do to each other in the darkness of a weekday matinée. He took her hand in his. Small, soft, pale. Capable of so much more than he had known. 

"Are you scared?" He asked. 

He pushed a tendril behind her ear to better look at her. Her hair was soft, wind under his fingers. He thought he had forgotten that.

"I don't know," she muttered. "I don't know if I can tell the difference anymore."

Kissing the top of her head, he tried to imprint her with more strength than he had himself. Back when they were kids, it had seemed like nothing could happen to them so long as they had each other. Too many years apart had broken the spell. They had been useless without one another, but just as much so now that they had found each other again.

"I am," he said. "I fucking am."

She nodded and reached an arm across his waist to ask for an embrace. He wrapped his arms around her, kept her close. What change did that make anymore? What was the point? That if they died, then they would die together? Tom had been dead for a long time. Holding her in his arms, he almost remembered what it was like when he hadn't. 

"So many things have changed..."

She looked up at him. Soft fingers against his cheek, a caress, an anchor.

"Some things haven't," she said.

She gave him a kiss on the cheek, precious lips bitten to anxiety, chapped and immeasurably soothing against his scratchy skin. Her hands gathered on his torso, just over his heart. She kissed him on the lips. 

"Becky... about the... I mean, what we..."

But her fingers covered his lips briefly and she hushed him. He had never been much of a talker anyway.

"I've..." She paused. Taking a slow breath, she went on. "I've spent a long time overthinking. Every little thing…" She touched his cheek. "Let's just not fuss this one, please."

They kissed. Simple as that, nothing that would stop the war out there, nothing that would wipe off the slate of their past but in this moment, everything and more. He wondered how it was possible that he had spent years without hardly a thought towards Becky Barnes. Having her in his arms, he could think of nothing beyond the feel of warm skin through the fabric, the waist under his hands. Nothing could be known about the future but the certitude of her lips, of her hands, soft ginger hair tickling his fingers as it cascaded over her back, was the only thing that made any sense. 

He lay her down gently on the bed and with his tenderness tried to fill the many, many holes dug deep by their lives. If that fucking doll wouldn't do it, it was all they could try on their own. He knew he loved her. He didn't know much else. He didn't even know if he loved her well, but fuck it, he would show her how much. A whole fucking ton, to every other reality and back here for the love of Becky in his arms, in his creaking bed. He hoped the walls of the fallout shelter were thick enough. 

"Becky Barnes," he sighed against her neck and Becky's hands caught in his hair. 

She was all softness, all warmth. Rare afternoons his parents weren't home, they would linger cuddling in bed long after love had been made, enjoying each other's breaths and silence. Becky and Tom lost in time, the same at thirty-four, the same at seventeen. How simple life had been when deployment had still seemed an honor he was looking forward to. 

"Do you think we'll ever be happy?" 

Fingers combing through his hair, the quiet rise and fall of her chest under him. 

"I don't know." 

He kissed the crook of her shoulder, breathing in her hair, nuzzling and making her laugh out a breathless snort despite herself for the tickling. 

"Me neither," he said. "But we can hope to try." 

Her arms were around him, holding onto each other for comfort, for one moment of peace. War was coming, despair and perhaps death. Nothing he hadn't known before. When he had been back, what he wished for the most ardently had been to have her in his arms again. Would he go back in time to live it all the same again, knowing that years later he would be led to this moment, this embrace? He didn't know. He had lived in the past nearly as long as he had lived his present and it had brought him no solace. He didn't trust the future to, either. In the love of Becky Barnes, he would take this exact present moment, this embrace, and fuck it with the rest.


End file.
